Running for Dummies – or should that be “with”?

June 25, 2015June 25, 20155 Comments

I had a shocker of a session last week. I should have seen it coming really. I’d had a dreadful road-rage filled commute to work, I was running sans-coach and I seriously procrastinated before leaving the office to tackle the 6 x 800m session on the West Cambridge site. You know when newsreaders shuffle papers at the end of a broadcast while they wait for the cameras to turn off? It was like that. My desk had never looked neater.

But I trudged out there – see the choice of word there people – and surprise surprise it was awful. I had to stop on round three. I was forced to stop on round four when TWO FLIES went in my eye at once. I had to stop on round five and proceeded to kick a fence post. I then thought “no chuffing WAY am I ending the session like this”, so I forced the last 800m and didn’t stop. I didn’t feel good about it though. I felt like I had wasted an entire hour.

The next day I complained about it to one of my colleagues who told me everyone has bad sessions. I do know this, and I know I can’t expect to always feel great, or to always get PBs when I do a Parkrun. But this felt like I was back to square one. I felt weak, a sensation I really, really hate, and one I generally don’t expect from myself unless I’m ill. He then said something else:

“I think you’re a bit hard on yourself.”

Like a sensible person I huffed a bit and stomped off to do my weights session, obviously handling all of this like a grown up PRO whilst continuing to mentally chew the whole thing over. The thing is, I have a habit of being hard on myself. I’ve always felt like I haven’t quite achieved what I could or should have done. And I get frustrated so easily. It’s a lethal combination.

So you can imagine my trepidation when this Tuesday and my next session with Alan rolled around. I had managed to tweak my back slightly on Monday so tackling Wandlebury with its hills and tree roots was out of the question (a reprieve!) so we settled on 200m instead. I thought we’d maybe do it 8 or at a push 12 times, but Alan announced it would be four sets of four off 30 seconds, with 4 minutes rest between each set.

That meant 16 reps of 200m. Oh dear.

So I did my usual thing of going off too fast and by the end of the first four I was doubled over, my legs feeling like lead and wanging on about how much I was hating it. Basically I was having a hissy fit.

But Alan has seen all this before, and he watched me have my tantrum with a slight smile on his face before asking me what the problem was. I told him it felt like I was running through treacle.

“I wish I was this fast through treacle. Now shall we forget all this bollocks and carry on?”

And that, in a nutshell of a sentence, is why Alan is the perfect coach for me. If I’d been on my own I would have bailed halfway, but in just a few words he managed to compliment me, make me laugh and snap me out of my bratty mindset. And so I did carry on. I brought my arms up high, kept straight and stopped doubling over (thereby squashing my lungs) at the end of each sprint and instead walked around, taking deep, restorative breaths and sips of water. By the time I finished I felt like I had pushed myself as hard as I possibly could have done, and most importantly, I felt strong again. Plus I reminded myself – I’m not a sprinter, not by any stretch of the imagination, so what I had just achieved was pretty flipping awesome.

And why did it feel like I was running through treacle? Because I was, on average, 4 seconds faster per rep compared to the last time we did this session.

If I’m pushing myself that bit harder, of course – OF COURSE – it’s going to hurt more. And as I know I’ve said before, if these sessions were easy there would literally be no point to them.

After the session we had a little chat about how even though my running is coming along in leaps and bounds, my ability to control my head still has a seriously long way to go. I’m not sure how I’m going to tackle that just yet (answers in the comments section please!) but in the meantime, at least I’m not dreading next week’s session (even though he parted with his favourite sentence of “you’re not going to like it”).

The only problem now is, if I can’t have a successful session without Alan talking me off the ledge, has he become my new dummy, something I can’t successfully train without?

We Need to Talk About Social Media’s Body Dysmorphia

June 19, 2015June 19, 20153 Comments

Let me start this by saying that on the whole I think that social media is all kinds of awesome. Without it I never would have met my running buddies Oli, Matt and James, I never would have talked feminism and trolls with Caroline Criado-Perez (OBE!), I would find it harder to stay in touch with family abroad and I wouldn’t have passed many gleeful hours harassing @Selfridges with my fashion soul-mate Ally. My experience with it is mostly fun and positive and full of like-minded people.

But sometimes, social media can be really, really crappy.

The latest tedious case in point? The ludicrous #BellyButtonChallenge

For those of you who aren’t au fait with internet stupidity (not sure what that comment says about me but let’s plough on), the belly button challenge originated on Weibo (the Chinese version of Twitter) and is supposedly based on a “scientific study” from the US (although citation of said study is surprisingly absent). Essentially, if you can reach behind your back and around your waist to touch your belly button, you’re fit and healthy. If you can’t, best put down the doughnut and get on the treadmill sharpish. It looks like this:

Are you kidding? I’m not sharing this rubbish. Google it yourself if you must.

I mean seriously? SERIOUSLY?! It’s not the fact that some moron has come up with this complete and utter twaddle that bothers me (there will always be morons and they will always bring their twaddle). It’s the fact that as of a week ago there had been 140 million posts about it, so I dread to think what the number must be now.

I’m going to let you ponder that number for a moment whilst I eat the aforementioned doughnut.

As an adult who works in fitness, I know that this is a test of flexibility. In this specific instance, shoulder flexibility. If you have flexible shoulders – be proud and show it off! I’m not above busting out the splits or crow pose when the fancy takes me.

But don’t you DARE peddle this as a sign of good health to impressionable young girls and women, who – mainly thanks to the media – base a huge amount of their self worth on what people think about how they look. One 24-year-old woman in Chongqing dislocated her shoulder from repeated attempts to reach her belly button for crying out loud (Google translate that page if you want a giggle).

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, a couple of days ago the Clavicle Challenge reared its ugly head, again courtesy of Weibo. GOODY GOODY! This time people have been balancing coins along their clavicles to show how skinny they are. If you can’t balance a stack of pennies – SHAME ON YOU!

Sigh.

And this is the crux of the matter. It is body shaming, no two ways about it. China clearly has a problem with encouraging women to be unnaturally thin. To put it another way, this is a country where I – a UK size 6-8 – would be hard pushed to get into a size large. But this is just a drop in a nasty, bullying ocean. We have US schools body shaming girls by sending them home for wearing shorts in 90 degree heat, but allowing BOYS TO WEAR SHORTS OF THE SAME LENGTH OR SHORTER (essentially telling girls that their bodies are a problem that need to be hidden).

WTF right?

We have Protein World and their frankly pants, lazy advert (same goes for Victoria’s Secret, but at least they stepped up). We have celebrities torn apart by revolting “journalists” (who I won’t be linking to here) for not losing their baby weight in two weeks. And on the flip side we have Plus-Sized brand Taking Shape body shaming thinner body types at London Fashion Week. And every single one of these things can be viewed by a 12 year old girl who starts plucking at the skin on her stomach and asking her parents if she’s fat, like the daughter of a friend of mine did recently. This crap filters down.

Luckily, whenever these stupid things happen, there is always someone waiting to turn it on its head and poke fun at it. Case in point is lingerie brand Curvy Kate, who decided to run with #boobsnotbellybuttons. Exhibit A:

Thanks to @danifearon11 for this.

This isn’t a flawless response, because Curvy Kate only do bras for D-cups and up which rules me out for one. But it’s a start. It’s a chance to showcase a plethora of different body types by confident, beautiful women who are poking fun at the ridiculousness that can be found on social media, which is what young girls need to see.

Body shaming, whether it’s of someone who is a size 0 or a size 22, is bullying. It’s not a grey area. And you know what? As an insecure teenager I was probably guilty of it to others and myself when I was growing up. But I’m older and wiser now. Although I might look in the mirror sometimes and not like what I see, more often or not this comes from my inability to get the same amount of volume in my hair as my hairdresser does. I think of my body more in terms of what it can do, and in my case it’s do a chin hold for 60 seconds, it’s running a 5k in 21:27, it’s hip thrusting 62.5kg and it’s running a half marathon dressed as a boob (almost) without hurting myself. My body is capable of more than I ever gave it credit for when I was younger, and I love it for that.

So in response to social media’s behaviour in the last week, I posted this:

Wouldn’t it be great if every woman posted something that made her celebrate her body with that hashtag? If you’re feeling this post please do the same as I’d love to see it. And as for Curvy Kate, I love them for their response to this:

That’s what I’m talking about.

A wander to Wandlebury

June 12, 2015June 12, 2015Leave a comment

If you don’t know Wandlebury Country Park, it’s described on the Cambridge Past, Present & Future Cambridge PPF as a “tranquil open space [that] offers more than eight miles of wonderful walks through mature woods, meadows and chalk grassland areas.” Doesn’t that sound delightful? No doubt it’s conjuring up images like this in your mind:

No. No, no, no, no, no. NO. Stop that RIGHT NOW.

For those wishing to play frisbee, take their dog for a walk or have a picnic, Wandlebury is probably a little slice of twee, Cambridgeshire loveliness.

For a runner – especially a runner from the fens – IT IS PURE EVIL.

It was a lovely day, not much wind and some much needed sunshine. It was everything you’d want from an outdoor run really. And when Alan explained what I’d be doing I was filled with a bit of trepidation but up to the challenge. He was pretty vague and talked about 45 seconds-ish uphill followed by about 40 downhill with a minute rest between each one and we’d do that three times, followed by six 20 second hill sprints with a walk back down recovery between each one.

Fair enough. So I gave it a bash.

Holy effing arseballs. It was THE HARDEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE.

I know I’ve probably said this before, but I seriously, seriously mean it. That 20 second hill sprint was like running up a treacle covered slide, hanging off a cliff face, whilst someone punched you in lungs. It was this but with far more swearing and sweating:

Getting through it I was so proud of myself, and when Alan talked about what to do next time, I thought “yep, you know what? I’ve learnt from this. When we come back here in around 4 weeks or so, I’ll pace myself a bit better and shorten my stride on that hill sprint and use my arms more. No probs.”

Oh poor misguided grasshopper.

When he said next time, he meant repeating it immediately.

I had completely and utterly misunderstood the session plan, and had obviously put a lot into what I thought was the last hill sprint. I felt a mild flutter of panic, but I uttered the words I always utter to Alan.

I’ll try.

And you know what? That’s all he ever wants from me. For me to try my best and give it go. The worst that will happen is that I’ll vomit in those lovely quiet woods and upset a few rabbits.

Turns out, I paced myself better the second time around. It hurt and was physically and mentally tough, but when I finished that last hill sprint, I felt unstoppable. And then I felt a bit wobbly and vaguely nauseous but you know what? That was ok.

As we walked back to the car, Alan started to tell me about future sessions at Wandlebury, but I quickly cut him off. Truth be told, I’d rather not know what to expect as I don’t want to psyche myself out and start worrying that I can’t do it. It’s a bit like the Tough Mudder Race which I stupidly agreed to do with my friends James and Amy today. James wrote a blog about his recent experience there, and it’s a great read but I almost wish I hadn’t seen it. as the thought of the Cry Baby is freaking me out slightly….

As I cycled back to work from the centre of town, my lovely colleague Lucy had actually texted me as I had been gone for two and a half hours and she was worried Alan might have actually completely broken me this time. No chance. It’ll take more than a few hills, even if my legs don’t feel like they belong to me today. Tomorrow’s Parkrun could be interesting….

Do not be fooled by the beauty.

Inspiring more than one generation

June 4, 2015June 5, 20152 Comments

Research carried out by the Centre for Market and Public Organisation at Bristol University showed that nearly 80% of adults were failing to meet government targets for physical activity.

A study by University College London researchers found that only 38% of girls were achieving the recommended hour of physical activity each day.

A 12-year study of more than 300,000 people by the University of Cambridge suggested that a lack of exercise could be killing twice as many people as obesity in Europe.

18 months after the London Olympics, the number of people playing sport once a week had increased by only 200,000.

In England, the prevalence of obesity among adults rose from 14.9% to 24.9% between 1993 and 2013.

Yikes.

But hang on. In England, 75% of women said they wanted to be more active.

Hold the flipping phone. Is that a beacon of light I see upon the very bleak horizon?

Yes, some of these statistics make bleak reading, but it’s the last one that gives me hope. If 75% of women want to be more active, then something needs to be done to inspire them into action. The This Girl Can campaign has kickstarted something brilliant, but it will take time to see how successful it has been. The Olympics tagline was “Inspire a Generation”, but what I want to know is – why just the one?

The reason I’m writing this post is because I was inspired today. I took the last session of my Women’s Beginners’ Running Group this evening, getting five women of all different ages to run 5km around a very hot and very busy Parker’s Piece. And they all did it, pushing themselves harder than I thought they could in the conditions, and all coming in between 30 and 36 minutes, sprint finishing with serious strength and guts. I was so unbelievably proud of them, and I felt inspired by their commitment to trying something different and difficult, especially given the comedy geniuses who liked to shout tips at us, run with us, or copy our warm up. Seriously dudes, we get one of you every week. Come back when you have something unique.

Warriors.

And so it got me thinking. It’s down to us to inspire each other. To inspire our friends, mother, siblings, daughters. I’m inspired by the women around me every day. By my Zumba instructor and friend Lucy who with her endless energy encourages dozens of women in and around Ely to dance their backsides off and not care what they look like doing it. By my incredibly talented friend Eloise who has worked so hard and dedicated so much of her life to her dancing which has led to her starring in the McQueen show. By my friend Sam who after just a couple of years of running ran the London Marathon for the Motor Neurone Disease Association in memory of her dad. By my boss Karen who pushes her mental strength to its limits by running 24 hour endurance races. By my sister.

And it’s not just the people I know. It’s people like Jessica Ennis, Jo Pavey, Paula Radcliffe, Nicola Adams, Kelly Holmes, Victoria Pendleton, Tanni Grey-Thompson, Denise Lewis, Amy Hughes, Katie McDonnell, Lucy Gossage, Chrissie Wellington, Kacy Catanzaro, the two crews who rowed on the Tideway (and therefore on an equal footing as men) in the Boat Race for the first time and people like 92-year old Harriette Thompson. And I’m barely scratching the surface here. These are just the people I’ve thought of off the top of my head.

But we need more. We need more women’s sport on TV. We need more campaigns like #WSW2015 and This Girl Can. We need to stop belittling ourselves and letting women be physical cliches. In short, we need less of this:

And more of this:

We need to be inspired into action and given the opportunity to try new things. And I genuinely believe that there is a sport out there for everyone. Women should be giving things a go and be encouraged to do so. How sad would it be if someone never found that sporting passion, whether it be netball, sprinting, ultimate frisbee or fencing?

I feel a bit like I’m brain dumping here and pointing out the flipping obvious. But next time you go to your bootcamp class, or see an advert for archery sessions, or decide to sign up for your first 5k like my running group girls, why not pick up the phone and tell your friend/mother/daughter/sister about it? You might end up turning a flicker of interest into an all-consuming flame and then they may go on to do the same thing, a ripple effect of igniting passions. And wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing?

This Girl Can – With or Without Makeup

June 1, 20152 Comments

To celebrate the inaugural Women’s Sport Week, I’m going to focus my posts this week on women in sport and the topics around this, starting with my thoughts on the “This Girl Can” campaign by Sport England and other partner organisations that launched back in January.

For those of you that aren’t familiar with it, the campaign focussed around a National TV advert that showed women of all ages, cultures, shapes and sizes giving it their all in sport. Take a look:

When it launched, I remember getting into a debate with someone on Twitter who asked “why does it have to be about how women look?” I suspect it was images like this that prompted her question:

And you know what? I got her point. I can see that she was trying to point out that how you look shouldn’t matter in sport, that it shouldn’t even be mentioned in this campaign – after all, would this be mentioned if the campaign were aimed at men? In a dream world, makeup and appearance wouldn’t be one of the (to be fair, many) focus points of “This Girl Can”. But the problem is, 40% of girls feel self-conscious about their bodies during PE, and 26% say they “hate the way that they look when they exercise/ play sport”. These are horrible statistics, and the fact is that too many of our girls are dropping out of sport once they leave school, and concerns with how they look is a key part of this.

“This Girl Can” can only really tackle the problem as it stands now. If girls and women are not exercising because of concerns about how they look, then this needs to be addressed in the campaign, and their fears need to be allayed. They need to know that exercise is not synonymous with looking “bad” or “silly”. You can sweat with lipstick on if that’s what floats your boat, or you can go utterly beetroot after a run like me. How you look simply doesn’t matter, so you should do what makes you feel comfortable.

A report by the Commons Health Select Committee showed that two thirds of women do not exercise for fear of being the one “struggling at the back”. I find this to be another terrifying statistic, especially as I know that whether you’re standing at the front or the back of your Zumba or Circuits class, or whether you struggle to clap on the beat or you’re only lifting 1kg dumbbells, no one is going to care. They’re all too busy getting off on that endorphin high and wiping the sweat out of their own eyes. The fact that you’re there means you’re giving it a go, and no one worth knowing is going to judge you for that.

The thing I’ll be interested in come January 2016, is seeing what percentage of women are now taking part in sport. With more and more female sporting role models elbowing their way into male-dominated sports media and campaigns like “This Girl Can” and “Women’s Sport Week” being launched, I hope that more women will make sport as natural a part of their day as cleaning their teeth, and not give a tiny rat’s arse how they look doing it. Then maybe in five years’ time we can have campaigns with no mention of how a woman looks, because we’ll be so used to their sweaty red faces that it won’t even occur to us to mention it.

And just on a final note don’t tell me that these women right here don’t inspire you to give it a go and not once consider how you look doing it. I know they do me, sweat and all.

GIRL RUNNING LATE

Tiny person running her way through life. Boring workout gear is not for me.

Month: June 2015

Running for Dummies – or should that be “with”?

A wander to Wandlebury

Inspiring more than one generation

This Girl Can – With or Without Makeup